Today was a rather one of forced relaxation. The news reported a heat alert but I was able to call that one for myself. It was dry, but it was hot and I felt slightly depleted by the time I arrived at the café despite unconscious to walk in the shade. By ,midday it was sweltering , almost to hot to read when I decided to head home for some food a the fan. The fridge was getting low and I’d already went over my weekly salary so I prepared a peanut butter sandwich saving the real food for dinner. It occurred to me that I should probably seek better work but I’ve always despised wearing a uniform and the music they play. That’s when the phone rang, it was my brother who works in the office. The one who is always travelling, well fed, drank wine and perpetually and honestly boasting that I should come work for him.
“Yes” I thought to myself, this time I’ll say yes. On top of starvation and mounting bills, I’d injured my self cycling and could not afford the therapy/ An ambulance drove by with it’s sirens blaring. The sound subsided and an amplified voice ordered “MOVE TO THE RIGHT. MOVE TO THE RIGHT” from a loud speaker. Funny, I don’t recall ever hearing the megaphone before, must have really been something in the way. “Yes” I replied to my brother’s scheduled offer. The offer always followed his commentary on the sports. “Great come out to the house right away and we’ll get you prepared.”
I took the train out to the developments and was at my brother by 1. I was suited with a blue shirt, trousers and shoes. “I had them waiting for you! Taylor made!” My brother smiled. He looked like a commercial and had that terrible music playing. I got dressed and thought to myself this isn’t bad. I felt proud and nationalistic, like a part of the team. “That will never do, here.” my brother interrupted and then passed me some lifts to put in my shoes. The barber was next, I was trimmed and dyed a solid colour, my hair always intermingled various hues of brown. I smiled at my reflection feeling empowered again. The same terrible music was sparkling in the background.
By half passed two we had successfully purchased a home, a car, furniture and a large screen video screen for me. I signed a whole bunch of papers and made the transaction on credit. “ You’re all set, let’s get you to work shall we.” He turned on my new computer which instantly greeted us with that terrible music I had now become very familiar with. Showing me some tasks on the company software, my brother said I can catch up today on a number of duties though the system closed at nine. “Isn’t it great, you can do you’re work right from home, but tomorrow you’ll have to work at the office. By that time you’ll have the software down.”
“What’s it like at the office?”
“It’s great, you do the same thing as you’re doing now only it’s at the office. At the office you can talk about sports.”
“Do they play this music?”
“Right until lunch that’s how you know it’s time to eat, check the scores. Then it plays again until it‘s time to go home.”
My brother left my new house, since abandoned, for about forty-five minutes before I cracked. I’d everything I could ever want, a huge debt and security, but that terrible music wore my patients like a lifetime of torture. I ran to the train a was home in time for dinner. I made the pasta and salad that I ’d been saving all day and lay there in silence for the firs since taking the new job. A police car sped past the window, no speakers, but sirens though I couldn’t hear anything but the monotonous melody of that terrible music subliminally staining my memory. I lost the clothes, washed out the hair dye and forfeited all my new possessions and credit, yet I cannot escape the endless recital of the terrible music which keeps playing over and over, only not in the back ground this time but permantly stained in the back of my mind!
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